Opinion
By Valentine Obienyem
LET me forewarn readers who may feel instinctively offended by this title: it is by no means an attempt to place both men on the same pedestal. Rather, it is a deliberate juxtaposition intended to draw focused attention to a pressing and sensitive issue.
A Catholic bishop, Godfrey Onah, recently addressed the complex phenomenon of “igo arusi”, carefully distinguishing it from “omenani.” In his lucid exposition, “omenani” refers broadly to the organic, ancestral way of life of a people, encompassing their foundational customs, communal ethics, and inherited forms of reverence. “Igo arusi”, on the other hand, represents a more fragmented and individualised form of practice, often shaped by personal interpretation and subjective innovation rather than authentic communal tradition.
In his remarks, the bishop warned against a seductive “back-to-the-roots” romanticism that risks idealising the past while ignoring its potential for abuse. He argued that an uncritical return to such impulses could degenerate into superstition, the proliferation of harmful charms (igwo ogwu), and even ritual killings. Whether one fully agrees with his theological framing or not, it is difficult to dismiss the disturbing contemporary incidents that continue to blur these boundaries in real time. What are the ontological realities surrounding things like “Okeite” and related phenomena?
In this regard, I find merit in Governor Chukwuma Soludo’s firm stance against such criminal distortions of tradition. Anyone found culpable of using culture as a cover for heinous crimes, regardless of status or religious affiliation, must face the full weight of the law.
I must admit I am pleased with the recent interventions of several bishops on this matter. In various masses and services I have attended, both Catholic and Anglican, the warnings against a dangerous regression into superstition and criminality have been clearly articulated. Given the speed at which the morals of our people are shifting, this is an issue that may require sustained pastoral attention from the pulpit. They should also encourage their priests to make it a preaching point at every sermon. That volcanic eruption must be contained at all costs.
Naturally, I also listened to the video response of the individual referred to as Mazi Dibia to Bishop Godfrey Onah. One cannot help but notice that what he seeks, above all, is the appearance of intellectual confrontation with ecclesiastical authority. I listened to his earlier exchanges with Fr. Ebubemuonso.
Mazi Dibia’s argument leans heavily on the esoteric notion of the “Age of Aquarius,” which he presents as evidence of a new historical fullness of truth. By invoking astrological categories in defence of revivalism, he reveals a fundamental weakness in his intellectual foundation. At this point, Cicero’s “De Divinatione” becomes instructive. Writing in classical antiquity, Cicero systematically dismantled astrological determinism by appealing to reason and empirical observation. He pointed, for instance, to mass tragedies such as the Battle of Cannae, where individuals with vastly different astrological charts perished simultaneously, and to the obvious reality that twins, born under identical celestial conditions, often lead entirely divergent lives. For Cicero, human behaviour cannot be reduced to celestial mechanics without stripping man of moral responsibility and reducing reason itself to superstition. This is the position of the Church.
To reinforce his argument, Mazi Dibia also attempts a familiar inversion: accusing the Christian Church of idolatry through its use of images and symbols, including the crucifix the bishop wears. He selectively cites Scripture to support this claim, focusing on liturgical art and sacred objects as supposed violations of biblical command. Yet this approach reflects a persistent problem: a fragmented reading of Scripture that isolates verses while ignoring their wider theological and historical context.
This is an old intellectual flaw. Many engage Scripture polemically, quoting passages to confirm pre-existing conclusions rather than to understand the unity of its message. But the mere recitation of biblical texts is not scholarship.
On the issue of images, for instance, Mazi Dibia conflates veneration with worship. Catholic theology is explicit: images are not objects of “latria” (worship), which belongs to God alone, but are aids to devotion and memory, associated with “dulia” (veneration). This distinction is central, yet often lost in polemical exchanges.
One cannot help but notice the ease with which he deploys biblical citations – a performance that is still far removed from genuine theological understanding. A useful example may be drawn from Jewish practice: the wearing of “tefillin” during prayer, in obedience to the command to “bind them as a sign upon your hand.” Yet even here, the deeper intent is not merely physical literalism, but the internalisation of divine law within the mind and heart. This is precisely where his argument appears to falter: a fixation on the textual surface rather than on spiritual depth. In theology, this is the distinction between the letter and the spirit of Scripture. When, for instance, the Second Commandment warns against images, a careful reading of the biblical texts shows that the prohibition is not primarily against making images, but against the intent to worshipping them. The commandment condemns idolatry, not artistic representation. Indeed, elsewhere in Scripture, God Himself commands the making of sacred images for specific religious purposes.
Ultimately, one is left with a deeper concern: the modern assumption that verbosity is equivalent to wisdom, and disputation synonymous with knowledge. Plato warned against this in the “Republic”, observing that when young minds, perhaps with Mazi Dibia in mind, first encounter dialectic, they often misuse it as a tool of amusement, refuting for sport rather than pursuing truth. Like puppies delighting in tearing arguments apart, they risk dismantling inherited wisdom without possessing the maturity to build anything in its place.
I have often argued, and I hereby repeat it: it is out of confusion that some of our people have become fixated on the slogan of “going back to the roots”. Which roots exactly? Are we referring to the roots that had no schools, no hospitals, and no organised system of formal education? Are we referring to the roots that killed twins and cast victims of certain diseases, such as those suffering from what was called (eko afo), into the evil forest? The were mere kidney diseases this roots did not understand and therefore shrouded it in mystery. Are we referring to the roots that attributed every misfortune to witchcraft and subjected innocent people to suffering in the name of tradition?
What many of our people have failed to understand is that the Europeans whom some now admire were also idol worshippers at one point in their history. They, too, had shrines, oracles, sacrifices, and a pantheon of gods. They were converted to Christianity just as we were. Yet nobody argues today that Christianity has held Europe down. On the contrary, Europe went on to build universities, hospitals, scientific institutions, and systems of governance that transformed the world.
The real causes of our underdevelopment are not difficult to identify. They include poor leadership, corruption, weak institutions, the neglect of education, the collapse of moral values, and the failure to reward merit. These are the issues that deserve our attention. Yet, rather than confront these challenges honestly, some people prefer to locate the source of our backwardness in another form of superstition. They imagine that prosperity lies hidden in a return to shrines and ancient rituals, as though economic development, technological advancement, and good governance can be conjured from altars. Must we return from Flying aircraft’s to “ikwu Ikiri?” And those propagating this will readily and confusingly equate “afa” with Ai.
History teaches a different lesson. Nations advance not by looking backwards in search of magical solutions but by embracing knowledge, reason, innovation, and ethical leadership. Every society has aspects of its past worth preserving, but no society becomes great by resurrecting practices that belong to a less enlightened age.
This is why the call to “return to the roots” must be examined carefully. A people should know their history, cherish their language, preserve their culture, and celebrate what is noble in their heritage. But cultural pride is not the same thing as cultural regression. We honour our ancestors best not by repeating their mistakes but by building on their achievements and correcting their shortcomings.
The tragedy of our time is that some people mistake nostalgia for wisdom. They romanticise a past they scarcely understand and prescribe it as a cure for problems it never solved. The future of our people will not be secured by a return to shrines, charms, and superstition. It will be secured by education, enterprise, discipline, justice, and the courage to confront reality as it is.
A.I
May 30, 2026
Tags: Godfrey Onah Governor Chukwuma Soludo Valentine Obienyem